


honey water and of all the stars

by skeedoodle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, do crack ships exist in ocs?, i'll tell you when lmao, if so there's gonna be some of those, there's a lot of gays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-06-23 10:09:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeedoodle/pseuds/skeedoodle
Summary: Granny Weatherwax looked out at the multi-layered, silvery world."Where am I?"Inside the mirror."Am I dead?"The answer to that,said Death,is somewhere between no and yes.Esme turned, and a billion figures turned with her."When can I get out?"When you find the one that's real."Is this a trick question?"No.Granny looked down at herself."This one," she said.—Terry Pratchett,Witches Abroad





	1. DMITROIL | you're late, but it's okay because i love you more than i love myself

dmitri stood on a vacant bridge, looking off into the night. it was almost pitch black out, a very distant satellite reminding him that light co-existed with the dark. he would've been spotted easily if the street lights weren't off. he had controls for them, but it seemed pointless at this point. shifting his weight, he pulled his long black trench coat tighter around his body. it.felt colder and darker for ten p.m.

dmitri had invited coil out for a date. his original idea was to pick her up, take her to dinner, and then to bring her to this nifty park that was a big part of his childhood to break some intense news to her. however, it was evident that he overwhelmed her to the point where she couldn't reflect him, because the dinner was two hours ago. he even wore the outfit she said looked best on him.

the male reflected on how he proposed the idea, nitpicking his wrongs from his rights like a picky child would to their dinner. he was so in his head, he almost didn't notice a new presence. he turned, hands up, expecting a mugger. instead, his eyes made out coil's panting figure.

"you. . . came?" he questioned, finally putting his arms down, walking towards the redhead.

"of course! i wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hang with another vi—" even in darkness, he could see her eyebrows raise. "you. i wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hang out with you."

"nice save," he commented, snorting. it took that to hold him back to the main reason he was here. he extended his left hand.. instead, coil opted to his full arm, leaning on him as they walked.

"i was a bit late, huh?" she asked quietly, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"three hours and fifteen minutes," he answered, almost too quickly, but then he reassured her,  
"not that anyone was keeping track. don't worry about it." she went quiet, like she was shaming herself.

his eyebrows dipped, a frown on his face as they passed through a gazebo. this park has at least five, and this one was recently built. it wasn't as memorable, or even worth noting. but he tried to be more observant. for missions, for coil, and for his own sake.

finally, she spoke up, "tell me about the date we were supposed to have. i wanna know what's in my near future." dmitri's throat ran dry at the last sentence. whatever he said now could mold the future. no, he reasoned with himself, it definitely will.

"well," he started, too nervous for comfort, "it was supposed to start with me picking you up at seven thirty. the reasoning behind the time was that less cars drive home at that time, so we'd be able to talk without having to repeat what we said too much.

"when we arrived at the restaurant, we were going to be seated in a private, cozy part of it, where we would drink the wine of your choice and eat whatever we wanted. i had.the idea of sharing a dessert, but they didn't allow that because they required more time to make this weird french dessert. which, i was already calling two weeks in advance, how much long longer do they need for some french dessert that could be made within a few days?

"but i digress. they're too stingy, and if we got there a minute too late they wouldn't serve us. now, that's what i call bullshit, coil! thank goodness i planned something afterwards in case that place didn't treat us like royalty."

they stopped in the third gazebo they entered, facing each other with clasped hands. after they stopped laughing, silence engulfed the world around them. they stared at each like lovesick teens in a romantic comedy movie.

"what was the plan afterwards?" coil asked, in a way that made the brunette male's knees weak. he fumbled to pull out the remote with one hand.

"this," he cued, flipping the switch on the tiny remote. just then, the remaining path was lit up. the lights outlining the path were glass roses, in a light pink shade. the glass to the street lights were replaced with pink glass. in the distance, a street band plays their way into the redhead's heart.

"i tried to get red, but it would always come out pink. i hope this is good enough." he let her go explore all the little details he put into the remaining walkway. it took a lot of preparation for this, especially since he had to fight with the mayor about changing the lighting. cost an arm and a leg, too.

a sharp pain in his arm brought him out of his daydream, and he held it like a baby.

"ow! what was that for?" he pouted, running his arm.

"all this! all this, for me." she pointed out, gesturing wildly to the romantic gesture. she leaned in, hand on her hip in a sassy manner. "you sure you got an ounce of bad in you, boy?"

he snorts, taking coil but the hands and spinning her gentily, taking her in. gosh, there aren't enough words in the world to describe what he feels for her. he dips her, his face inching close to her's, leaving a centimeter for him to talk.

"well," he defends, smoothly and confidently, "a villain always has the power to love. why am i any different, hm?"

with that, he seals their lips together in a tight, passionate way, surely sweeping the redheaded female off her feet. she puts her arms around dmitri's neck, smiling sweetly. it was a clash of two different words that fit so seemingly perfect when placed side by side. this surely wasn't the last date she got to experience.


	2. TARMON | equilibrium

"stay in here until another knight comes and removes you, peasant scum." the knight shoved zimon into the tight, dirty cell. he was laughing as he locked the cell.

"no one's cleaned this cell in years. hope you don't catch the plague like the last unfortunate soul!"

"no, please! i'm the youngest of the hines! i'm blue-blooded!" he called out, banging on the cell bars. he was trying not to cut himself on the rust, but he couldn't see in front of him.

"shut it, criminal! you don't have the right to talk. not after you infiltrated this beautiful castle, and tricked the prince into a dance. you deserve to rot in this cell with the rest of the traitors of this glorious land." the knight hissed, banging his metal armor against the bars of the cell.

"enough!" a light from the end of the hall glowed. "remove this innocent man from this cell at once!"

the guard immediately bowed. "your royal highne—"

"i'm sorry, did you not hear me, sir bren? i said to remove zimon hines this instant." taro got closer, squatting to see eye to eye with the knight.

"or would you rather take his place in the grossest cell in the kingdom?" before he could answer, he was switching places with zimon, his head lowered. taro—bless his swiftness—tore off the knight's helmet, exposing his face. he must have been in his thirties, but that didn't matter to the blonde as he almost started drooling over sir bren's face.

as the prince locked the cell, he handed the lit torch off to zimon, telling him to decide what to do with it. confused, he questioned, "what do you mean by that?"

"ugh, are you frazzled to the point of blindness?" he asked, though he didn't mean to snap.

he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "you decide whether or not sir bren will be allowed light or not." he nodded, putting the light up on the wall. he did it in slow, quick movements, careful not to upset the prince more.

satisfied, he started walking off. zimon stayed, his hands on the bars, looking in the direction the redheaded prince walked.

"hey," he whispered, desperate to make the other feel better. "what?" bren snapped, glaring at the blonde. "you didn't have to take my place. it was kinda foolish of you to not say anything. uhm," he breathed nervously. mentally, he cursed himself for saying that. it wasn't what the knight needed to hear.

"my family hasn't gone a day in ten years without seeing me for dinner. i was never late." he huffed, his head lowered. his brown hair covered his eyes.

"well, uhm—i'll take your place, then! i'll even bring you dinner. i swear. i'll try to get you out as soon as possible." he fumbled with his hair, finding the leather ribbon that kept it together. the knight said nothing but looked downward.

"here," he extended his hand, causing the knight to look up. he held the leather ribbon out to him, with a smile. "you'd look better with your hair out of your face. uh, hope your family doesn't mind guests!"

he waves as he runs to catch up with the prince, who was waiting on the stairs.

"why are you nice to people who aren't nice to you?" he asked, looking up to meet his gaze. zimon found it baffling that taro didn't even understand, even with his advanced knowledge of the human brain.

"because," he answered, sharing a small smile with himself as he climbed the stairs, "there are people like you who are mean for me. why be mean when someone else is better at it?" he reached the top and peered down on the red-headed prince curiously. he was watching the blonde climb the stairs with a strange form of fondness that made zimon's stomach flip.

shaking his head, he turned and continued climbing the stairs, into the courtyard, where the sun of noon would warm him from the cellar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN CASE OF CONFUSION:  
> taro is the red-headed prince.  
> zimon is the blue-blood (noble) with blonde hair.   
> sir bren is the knight with brown hair.


	3. MACLIJAH | bird akin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is short, i forgot what this was really abt !!

He was very birdlike, MacGillivray thought, looking at the other male at the end of the cliff. His hair was colored like a crow, but his voice is akin to a raven. Low, croaking. . . And he moves slow—perhaps like a grackle? And, once, he swore the other male turned his head 360 degrees around like an owl. Not to mention, he wore mostly black. Rarely did he wear any other color, even if he was asked by someone else to please, for the love of clean clothes, wear a different color.  
  
But he didn't look like a bird. Maybe that was because he was human, or the fact that he didn't hop or fly like from point A to point B like one, but it was so clear to Mac that he was the human version of a bird that the fact that his anatomy matched his own was mind-boggling. Or maybe it was the way his grey eyes seemed to hyperfocus on every single thing, ripping it apart from the inside out without moving. It was one of his many talents.

Not that he would acknowledge anything able himself. If you gave him a compliment, he looks uncomfortable, shrugs, and mumbles a feeble "I guess". Like he's never received a compliment before. Or hasn't been taught how to deal with one. Which, if you've seen how his father acts around Elijah, it would all add up. That twisted Mac's heart, because he knows the taller make deserves the praise for all he does. 

"Mac! Mac!" he heard. but didn't respond. He thought it was someone else. He didn't want to talk to anyone else right now. "Oh my god, are you having another fucking seizure?" To that, his eyes snapped to the person calling his name in front of him. His gaze softened when he realized it was the bird man. He blushed, and began to fumble with his frayed jacket sleeves. 

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here. I was thinking—" 

"I could tell," he cuts me off, dismaying me. He always did that when I was about to ramble. He says we've know each other long enough to know what we're about to say or do. I know bird man knows me that well, but I don't know him that well. I don't think I've put in that much effort. I never think I'm putting in that much effort. 

With a low groan, I put my head down on the table, stretching out one arm out. Without a second of doubt, bird man takes my outstretched hand in his own, and continued to eat his lunch. Smiling to myself, I remained still, afraid he'd recoil his hands and I'd never feel the coldness of his smooth, pearly white skin. 

Damn, I wish he could interrupt my thoughts. 


End file.
